


And I'll Take Your Hand In Mine

by appleofmysirius



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Osamu and Atsumu are your little babies in this one uwu, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleofmysirius/pseuds/appleofmysirius
Summary: A series of snapshots in your life with your husband, Kita Shinsuke, and your adopted twins, Atsumu and Osamu.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

_March_

“There are these two boys,” Shinsuke begins at breakfast, calling your attention from the newspaper you were reading. 

“What boys?” 

“These two boys at the orphanage. A friend told me they were looking for a home and I think we’d be perfect for them.” He says, reaching over to grab your hands in his. 

The two of you had talked about adoption for a while so this was par for the course really, what with the social workers already checking the two of you out and clearing you as a couple suitable for adoption. The only thing remaining would be the two of you actually meeting these two boys. 

“Alright,” you agree with a soft smile, thinking fondly of little feet and hands, laughter filling your rickety old house while Shinsuke worked out in the fields. A family. 

A phone call later and the two of you are scheduled to meet the two of them in a week. 

When you drive down to the orphanage, your heart pangs with the realisation that you might be taking these two boys in, but there are so many others who may not get the same happy ending. 

Shinsuke gets out of the car, grabbing your hand and walking with you to the registration. A few forms later and you’re cleared to meet these boys. The receptionist leads you to a meeting room, full of colourful toys and chairs and tables, obviously meant to make the kids comfortable. A social worker then leads in the two boys- a pair of identical twins. 

She nudges them forward, one after the other, “This is Atsumu. And this is Osamu.” 

Osamu minutely hides behind his brother, who looks entirely displeased at the situation. 

Shinsuke crouches in front of them, “Hi, I’m Kita Shinsuke. It’s very nice to meet ya both.” 

You join him on the floor, making similar introductions. 

Osamu gives you a very direct stare, “Are you going to be our mommy?” 

“I’d like to,” you admit, mustering a warm smile. 

Osamu brightens considerably after that, leaving his brother’s side so he can sit with you. Atsumu is still hesitant, choosing to stand rather stiffly in front of the both of you. 

“I don’t want a new mommy!” He says. 

“And that’s alright,” you smile, “But I’d very much like to take care of you.” 

His resolve crumbles and he falls forward, crawling over to Osamu. They sit pressed against each other, holding hands as they seemingly telepathically communicate in twin language. Finally, Osamu tugs on your jeans. 

“What’s your home like?” 

“Well,” Shinsuke answers with a good-natured laugh, “It’s pretty old! And there’s lots of space for you to run around in. We’ve also got a pear tree in our backyard. Do you like pears?” 

Atsumu nods. “I don’t like living here.”

“We would like to give you both a home, Atsumu, Osamu,” you say, “How does that sound?” 

The tiny smile from Osamu tells you everything you need to know. 

_May_

Two months of meetings and getting the boys acclimatised has led to this day. Atsumu and Osamu are coming home with you and they’ve never been as excited as they are today. 

Atsumu bursts free from the car, exploring every inch of your front yard. Osamu hovers around you, noticeably less interested and a little more worn out by the morning’s ordeal, so you scoop him up into your arms. He’s tired, leaning his head against your shoulder and letting out a tiny yawn against your neck. 

“Atsumu,” you beckon, calling him over, “Let’s go inside, shall we?” 

“Sure,” he chirps, noticeably more cooperative and cheerful once he trusted the both of you. 

Shinsuke is already inside the house, preparing snacks for the boys to have once they unpack in their bedroom. 

Their bedroom is fitted out with a pair of beds, dressers and bookshelves. A long desk sits against the wall with two chairs, as well as a few boxes of crayons, pencils and colouring books. 

“This is for us?” Osamu asks with wide eyes. 

Atsumu looks torn between waiting for your confirmation and running to play with his new toys. 

“Yup!” you stroke a hand through his hair, “Everything here is yours.” 

Setting Osamu down, you inform the two of them they need to be downstairs in five minutes for snack time. Osamu casts a beaming smile your way.

You head down to the kitchen to join Shinsuke in preparing some bunny apple slices and chocolate milk for them. The twins come down the stairs moments later, holding on to each other’s hands as they take each step, one at a time. 

Little hands grip the counter in your kitchen as they try to peer over and see what snacks you’ve prepared. You can hear their little grunts as they stand on their tiptoes. Wiping your hands on your pants, you smile.

“Come here,” you say, lifting Atsumu up by his armpits and seating him on a chair. You do the same for Osamu right after. The boys immediately dive for the apples, chewing and munching happily.

“Good? You ask, wiping a bit of apple from Atsumu’s soft cheek. 

He nods, grinning happily when you press another apple into his palm. Osamu is snacking much more diligently, neatly eating his apples without making so much of a mess. His little hands make quick work of the apple slices on his plate, as he gobbles them up. When he’s done, he makes grabby hands for the chocolate milk so you pass him a cup with a blue ‘O’ on it. Atsumu’s got a matching one with a yellow ‘A’. It delights him immensely. 

Later, you bathe them and feed them dinner. They join you in front of the television, munching on some celebratory cookies Shinsuke brought. Osamu, who’s finished his cookie, dozes off by your side, a warm weight against your arms. Atsumu sits in your husband’s lap, fighting against his droopy eyelids. 

_June_

The boys settle into your house fairly quickly. You’re thankful for the summer break because they would eventually be enrolling in a kindergarten and you didn’t want to stress them out with so many new changes at once. So, you’ve taken it upon yourself to teach them some basic reading and writing.

You go over spelling with Atsumu, who’s growing frustrated as he’s unable to trace the lines in the worksheet you got for him. His brother, having finished the worksheet, colours the picture of the cat in the corner. 

“Here,” you say gently, holding his hand and guiding him through the loops and lines of the hiragana. 

He tries it once more without your assistance, but the character comes out crooked. His expression crumples, tears leaking out of his eyes. He balls the worksheet in his fist, throwing it to the side.

“Tsumu,” you soothe, stroking his soft brown hair, “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” he bawls, “I wanna do the cha- the chara- the word like Samu!” 

“It takes time, Tsumu. Osamu started on his worksheet before you did.” 

Shinsuke appears in that moment, taking Atsumu’s hand and bringing him outside to the pear tree. Atsumu, still crying, hides his face behind his forearm, tears dripping as he’s led over to the pear tree.

“Atsumu,” says your husband, kneeling next to his son, “Look at this pear tree. Remember when I brought you the pears at your old home?” 

Atsumu nods, gazing up at the barren tree.

“We have to wait all year for the fruit to grow, you know?” Shinsuke explains, “It takes time, but because it’s worth it, we wait.” 

Atsumu gazes at his father as Shinsuke delivers more profound wisdom, “In the meantime, we make sure that there are no weeds on the tree. That there’s enough water and sunlight. We have to take care of it and be patient so we can have those yummy pears.”

“So now,” Shinsuke suggests gently, “You can go back inside and continue your writing. It’s okay if you don’t get it today. You will get it one day, and that’s what’s important.” 

Atsumu returns to his chair, apologetically asking for another worksheet. You wipe the tears stains off his face, and go through the strokes with him again. Osamu, now concerned for his brother, sits on your lap, patting Atsumu’s head when he starts making progress in his writing.

_July_

As summer progresses, Shinsuke insists on signing the boys up for sports classes at the community centre as an outlet for their energy. They decide on a volleyball one, chatting your ear off in the car on the way there. 

Shinsuke’s old friend, Aran, brings his son along, a sleepy-looking boy named Rintarou. Atsumu’s loud voice causes him to shrink back a little, but some coaxing from Osamu gets Rintarou to join them as they head into the class together, hand-in-hand. 

The boys come back to you after every class with scrapes on their knees and elbows, but with hearts so full of excitement that Atsumu chats your ear off until he’s fallen asleep. Osamu watches his brother’s excitement with a fond smile. When you ask him how he finds his volleyball classes, he gives you a quiet ‘I love them,’. 

_August_

When you enrol them in a childcare centre until the next year starts and they can begin kindergarten proper, you have to pack their bags and make lunches. You wake a little earlier so you can make two lunches for your boys in addition to Shinsuke’s and breakfast. 

Shinsuke who is already getting a headstart on some of his farming work for the day, has left the house. He promised to be back to bring the boys to school. 

You hear a soft creak on the stairs and the thump of sock-clad feet making their way down. Osamu’s head appears in your periphery as he leans behind the kitchen door. He peers in, as though silently asking for permission to come join you. 

You bring a little stepping stool for him, instructing him to shape the rice balls in his little hands. You have moulds for this, so Osamu’s rice balls come out looking decent and not too out of shape. He’s a little tired after that, so you seat him at the table with bread in one hand and a plastic knife in the other. He’s to make the peanut butter sandwiches for their breakfast. 

“Mommy,” Osamu calls for you.

“Yes,” you look back at him.

“I like this,” he says, looking down at his completed sandwiches. “It’s fun.”

 _September_

Your boys get into their first fight in September. You hear the scuffle in the backyard and the backdoor slam open. Atsumu marches inside, a scratch on his cheek. 

“What happened, baby?” You ask. 

Atsumu fights back tears as he recalls that Osamu pushed him into the pile of leaves he was making. And how Osamu refused to apologise and clean up the leaves with him. You allow Atsumu to crawl into your lap and watch your cooking programme for a while before he wrinkles his nose in boredom and heads back outside.

The excited chatter and giggles of your boys is heard once more, and you know they’ve made up without you even needing to step in. 

_October_

Your boys turn five in October, so you and Shinsuke throw them a huge party. Their friends from the childcare centre and the volleyball class are invited, they pick a huge cake and presents line the dining table in your house. 

When it comes time to cut the cake, everyone gathers around the table, singing them a birthday song and clapping their hands to the beat. Osamu sniffles and turns around, burying his head in your stomach. You run your hands through his hair while Atsumu waits for his brother to calm down so he can blow out his candle. 

“We’ve never had something like this before,” he tells Shinsuke, who picks him up so that he can blow out his half of the candles. The both of you realise Osamu is a little overwhelmed. 

Once Osamu calms down, you lower him to blow out the candles too. 

The twins cheer excitedly, hugging each other tight as they celebrate their birthday. 

_November_

When the November chill sets in and your boys don’t enjoy spending their time in doors, it’s no wonder you end up with two sick little ones mid-way through November. Aran’s son, Rintarou, is apparently also equally sick, holed up in his bed at home. 

Atsumu maintains a fairly cheery attitude despite his coughs and sniffles, taking his medicine without any protest. Though he wrinkles his face after, you know he’s doing his best to cooperate. However, Osamu is a grumpy child when he’s sick. He’d cried soft sobs into your arms when you told him he was to have warm porridge for lunch, eager to eat something different after the non-stop porridges and soups of the past few days. 

After he’s spent himself crying, you help Osamu sit up, feeding him spoonfuls of warm porridge, which you blow on. Atsumu’s healing a little faster, so he’s able to feed himself. Shinsuke’s taken on all the house chores by himself, where you’d normally split down the middle, as you nurse your boys back to health. 

Osamu eventually falls asleep in your arms, chubby cheek resting against your forearm as he breathes softly. Atsumu wonders over to his brother’s bed, poking his cheek. 

“I love you, Samu,” he whispers, with a kiss to his brother’s head, “Get well soon.” 

_December_

You and Shinsuke got married six years ago today on a frosty December morning. This year, your normal festivities are joined by Atsumu and Osamu. Shinsuke has them up early so they can make you breakfast in bed. 

They’re pretty noisy, climbing up the stairs with not-so-hushed voices tittering away excitedly. You pretend to be asleep, even giving out a loud fake snore when you hear the door open. Atsumu dashes over to the bed, flopping over you. His brother climbs up by your other side, nestling into your side. 

Shinsuke sets the tray on your lap once you’re upright, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips in greeting. Your boys both give you sweet cheek kisses, excitedly awaiting you to eat your breakfast. 

It’s a simple fare- from toast, some eggs and your coffee, but you make exaggerated noises of delight so your boys can feel proud of their work. Osamu shyly tells you he mixed the eggs and helped Shinsuke cook them. You give him an extra kiss on the cheek for that.

Atsumu sneaks a bit of your golden toast, smiling cheekily when you pinch his cheek. 

You love your family more than anything, you think as you look down at your happy children and at your husband who’s explaining the concept of anniversaries to his sons. You feel so warm, so content. You take Shinsuke’s hand, giving him a soft smile. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extra scenes!
> 
> find me on the tumble at forgetou

Atsumu and Osamu turn six in October. You plan to make a huge chocolate cake, just the way they like, with chocolate icing and a little green icing frog right in the center. You know the boys have been obsessed with edible animals lately, begging you to pull out the animal-shaped cookie cutters everytime you baked. ****

_Step one, gather and measure the ingredients._

Osamu learns to cook over the course of the summer. It starts with him shaping onigiri for lunch, and it eventually develops into him making eggs and even cookies by your side. He likes to cook, pulling his stool over next to you, while you prepare lunch or dinner or even bake something sweet on the weekends.

Shinsuke loves your apple crumble, so you pick up some nice apples from the supermarket, and press them into Osamu’s hands along with a kid-friendly vegetable peeler. Osamu barely scrapes anything off the apple at first, so you take his hands in yours, guiding him through the motions of peeling an apple. 

“Here,” you say, showing him how to drag the peeler down the circumference of the apple. 

Osamu watches in quiet concentration before repeating the action for himself. 

He holds out a golden apple to you, beaming with pride at his first peeled apple. Eventually, you move him on to making the crumble mixture. He’s thrilled to mix the butter and sugar and flour mixture into crumbs with his hands, giggling with delight as the mixture squeezes from his palms like a thick paste. 

Later, while the crumble is baking, Osamu dozes off in your arms, a flour smudge on his cheek. 

_Step two, Cream the butter and sugar._

Berry season is here. Shinsuke knows a farmer down the road who has a berry farm and who’s more than happy to allow the boys to pick some berries from the bushes. You give them each a bucket, smear sunscreen on their face despite Atsumu’s protests, and pull their hats down on their face so they have adequate shade. 

“Say bye to yer mother,” Shinsuke instructs, kissing your cheek. 

The boys rush over and hug and kiss you goodbye, heading out to the family car, where Shinsuke awaits. 

When they arrive at the berry farm, they take off in the direction of the bushes, sampling the berries immediately. Shinsuke tuts when he notices their empty baskets and their red stained lips and cheeks, guilty expressions weighing their tiny faces down. 

“C’mon,” he smiles fondly, taking their hands and walking them down to his favourite bush in the farm. Shinsuke always had good luck with the berries there. 

Osamu plucks the berries a little indiscriminately, while Atsumu only picks the ripest, juiciest berries, totally missing out on some of the smaller sized gems. With a sigh, Shinsuke kneels in front of his sons, showing them how to pick the berries. He wraps his hands around Osamu and Atsumu’s hands, showing them how to twist the berries off the stems, plucking them safely and putting them in their baskets.

He watches their improved berry picking skills with a smile, carrying the both of them in his arms when the afternoon hits and they’re tired from being on their feet the whole day. Atsumu yawns and buries his face in the crook of his neck, while Osamu sneaks a few berries from his loot.

_Step three, sift the flour into a bowl. Add the cocoa powder and sugar._

Visiting Shinsuke’s extended family in Akita prefecture in the dead of winter meant your first day there was a snow day. Atsumu was thrilled, glued to the window as the white snow fell from the sky, begging you to let him out to play. Shinsuke was sent with him, both bundled up and with the instruction to return after half an hour. 

Osamu was too tired to go out. He came out of his bedroom, saw that you had the space heater on downstairs and laid by your side on the sofa, falling back asleep. You stroke his hair as you watch your husband and son play in the snow. Osamu grumbles something as he emerges from sleep, shifting so he could lay in your lap. 

“Yes, baby?” You ask, running your fingers through his fringe. 

“Cocoa,” he mumbles. 

“C’mon,” you tell him, holding his hand and walking to the kitchen. He sits on a stool, watching with rapt attention as you heat the milk on the stove and add real chocolate chunks in, plus a scoop of nutella the way he likes. You serve his cocoa to him, saving a bit for Atsumu who’s now coming back in from his snow day. Shinsuke helps Atsumu out of his thick winter jacket, dusting the snowflakes from his hair.

Atsumu jogs over, climbing on a stool next to his brother and poking Osamu with cold fingers. Osamu whines, shifting away from his brother. You place a mug of warm cocoa in front of Atsumu, watching him try to blow the steam away.

Shinsuke loops his arms around you, cold fingers brushing a sliver of exposed skin on your stomach. You yelp, causing him to laugh and kiss your lips softly. 

_Step four, mix the dry and wet ingredients. Pour into a tin and bake._

Ojiro Aran stands apologetically on your doorstep, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. A disgruntled Rintarou is half-asleep in your arms. 

“Please,” he says, “the babysitter bailed last minute and I really need someone to watch Rinnie while I’m out of town for the weekend.”

“Sure,” you agree, taking Rintarou into your arms- he’s considerably lighter than your own boys- and his travel bag from Aran. Rintarou buries his face in your shoulder, groaning sleepily when you set him down on the sofa while you prepare a futon for him. It’s still early, so your boys are fast asleep in their beds. 

Atsumu eventually rises from the commotion of you setting the futon on their bedroom floor, peering down at you from his bunkbed. 

“Yes?” You whisper.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Your friend Rintarou is here. I’m setting up a futon for him.”

And then, Atsumu yells at the top of his lungs, “Osamu! Rintarou’s here!” 

Osamu startles, about to burst into tears before you very quickly shift to his side, stroking his hair and coaxing him back to sleep. With a stern warning, you remind Atsumu not to disturb his brother. You help him down, bringing him downstairs where Rintarou is sleeping so he can play with his friend.

Luckily, Rintarou is awake by the time you return, looking glumly at his sock-clad feet. 

“Morning, Rintarou,” you say, patting his hair down, “Your dad says you’re staying with us for a few days. Atsumu’s already awake, so why don’t you play with him for a bit?” 

He nods, hopping off the sofa and joining Atsumu, who’s playing with blocks on the living room floor. Osamu joins them eventually, crawling down the stairs sleepily and sitting next to the other two boys with a soft thud. You let them play for a bit while you sort out something for breakfast. Mercifully, Shinsuke’s brewed coffee for you before he left for the fields, so you take a sip from your mug while you toast bread and fry an omelette. 

“Mommy,” Atsumu’s voice wobbles as he enters the kitchen. 

You turn around, startled to find him near tears. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Samu and Rin don’t wanna play with me anymore!” He wails, burying his face in your stomach. 

You let him cry for a moment, before peeling him away. “Did they say something to you?”

“They said I was too mean and that I didn’t wanna share. But they weren’t playing with my blocks pro-properly.”

You wipe the tears off his face and walk him back to the living room. His brother is seated with Rintarou, making a colourful tower with the blocks. You call their names with a sigh, pushing Atsumu forward to go sit with them. A hug and a kiss later, and they’ve all made up, with Osamu and Rintarou promising to be more patient and Atsumu promising to share his toys. 

_Step five, cool the cake. Ice. Slice and serve._

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr plug @1tooru 
> 
> also like... just wanted 2 write these 2 as babies uk.?


End file.
